Sea kayaking New England

Gliding through the water in a boat made for two

Peering upwards, squinting against the afternoon sun, I can make out the 'V' in a tree, and between it – sure enough – is what looks like a huge nest made of twigs and branches. Unfortunately though, right now the female bald eagle that tends to her young here is probably off finding food, and her babies are evidently too small to see. Still, the idea that the elusive symbol of America is soaring over the ocean not a mile away from here just adds to the sheer majesty of this place.

There are few stretches of US coastline as beautiful as where I am right now – particularly from the vantage point of a tandem kayak. I've come to the rugged cliffs and ocean views of New England –  Acadia national park in Maine to be precise – to go sea kayaking around the outlying, uninhabited islands that pepper the water here.

We've come out for the day with Coastal Kayaking Tours, based in Bar Harbour, a pretty – if busy – little port on the eastern edge of Acadia. We've got about three hours until the rains come through – there are black clouds looming, threateningly, on the horizon but they're still some way off – and I need to explore as much as possible as quickly as possible as right now it's beautiful sunshine and the water is a brilliant blue.

People have been coming to the New England coast for centuries, drawn by its rugged beauty. Acadia, the first national park east of the Mississippi, boasts the tallest mountain on the US Atlantic coast (Cadillac – named after a self-promoting Frenchman with delusions of grandeur) and visitors swarm here to bike round the historic carriage roads that criss-cross the park and take in the stunning views.

This weekend is one of the busiest of the year, but luckily 99% of the people are on land; the harbour that we're going to be kayaking in is all but empty.

My wife and I climb into a tandem sea kayak – developed specifically for open water. They're very comfortable – designed for long journeys in choppy water – and we wear splash decks (like neoprene skirts that fit around our waists and pull over the deck of the kayak) to keep the water out. Our craft is about 15 feet long and I steer, not with my paddle, but with two foot pedals in the back that control a rudder. It takes a bit of getting used to but it eliminates any need for constant communication between the two crew to determine which side we need paddle harder on.

Sea kayaks trace their roots back to the boats used by the original inhabitants of northern Canada and Alaska who used them primarily to hunt seals. Today, though, I'm on the look-out for whales, which are said to occasionally breach out of the water around these islands. And I'm not planning on doing any hunting.

Porcupine Islands

We paddle over to nearby Bald Porcupine Island and Long Porcupine Island, both of which are covered by tall spruce firs and large granite outcrops. What's interesting about these islands is that one side has a sheer face and the other a gradual slope that slips gently into the water, apparently caused by glaciers that moved from north to south, breaking off the south sides of these islands.

You can paddle up close, and during the winter you can even moor up and hike around Bald Porcupine Island – but not today. When the bald eagles are nesting it's out of bounds. So we paddle around the island, the smell of salty sea air mingling with the scent of pine.

In the water, just past the island, is a huge Red Lion's Mane jellyfish – like a huge red cloud with thousands of long tentacles underneath. It's apparently the largest known species of jellyfish on the planet and although the sting isn't lethal – and the one that's gently floating under my boat isn't a giant –  the largest recorded specimen ever found washed up on shore just a few miles down the coast a century ago and had tentacles which were 120 feet long. So I'm not about to go swimming today.

We make our way along the coastline and see hikers up on the hills, looking down. The huge sea catamaran moored up on the shore below them used to take people to-and-from Canada but a downturn in trade meant it's now been mothballed – hopefully only temporarily.

Acadia is home to some 40 species of mammals including coyotes, mountain lions, wolves and black bear, although I hope I'll meet none of these on the afternoon hike I've planned after the rain stops, and anyway, three hours of kayaking has meant all I can think about now is the lobster I'm having for dinner.

Those thunderclouds are now directly overhead and the rain has started. We've only been out on the water for a few hours but it's amazing how quickly the time goes, so easy is it to paddle in a sea kayak. I'm not sure I'm ready to tackle a transatlantic voyage just yet – I'm no James Cracknell – but these boats are definitely built for long journeys.

So as we paddle – fairly rapidly now – back to shore, I look back at the pine trees blowing in the breeze on the Porcupines and I know it won't be long before I'm back. Maybe next time I'll even see the eagle and a whale or two.

WideWorld would like to thank Coastal Kayaking Tours, www.acadiafun.com, 48 Cottage Street, Bar Harbor, Maine, Tel:  00 1 207-288-9605 or email [email protected]

For more information on visiting Acadia National Park, visit: http://www.nps.gov/acad/index.htm